


Birth of a King

by songsofgallifrey



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Childbirth, Gen, Minor Character Death, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 09:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15070322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songsofgallifrey/pseuds/songsofgallifrey
Summary: Reader POV. You are Queen of Asgard, married to King Loki. One night an intruder breaks in to your bedroom and attacks you, and the circumstances surrounding the break-in are suspicious to say the least. Not to mention your child is in danger.





	Birth of a King

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an angst writing challenge presented by bionic-buckyb on Tumblr. My prompt:
> 
> "How am I supposed to look at you the same way?"  
> "Someone literally just died and that's what you're thinking about?"

You draw in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. The man beneath you is still warm but his eyes are empty now, his life’s blood pouring out of the fatal wound you delivered to his neck. Closing your eyes to the gruesome sight before you, you let the knife in your hand clatter to the floor and rise unsteadily to your feet. Your formal gown is ruined, stained in the intruder’s blood and torn at the bodice. Adrenaline is coursing through your veins, and now that the struggle is over, you are disturbed to feel proud of yourself.

The King doesn’t have to make any sound for you to know he is behind you. You always know. This time he is late.

“Where were you?” Your question is an accusation.  _You are supposed to have eyes all over the palace. Your magic is nigh impregnable. You are supposed to protect me._

Loki does not move, but stares at you with disbelieving eyes. “How did you do it?” he asks, avoiding the obvious, refusing to address what the attacker tried to do to you.

You stare at the bloody dagger on the floor, Loki’s dagger, the one he kept under his pillow. Your hands still feel the resistance of flesh and arteries as you remember what you have done. “I did what I had to do to protect our child,” you murmur solemnly, your hand drifting over the curve of your belly.

“But you’ve never picked up a blade a day in your life,” he insists. “You’re a Queen, it’s not right for you to. I should have been the one to stop him. It’s going to be one thing to figure out how he got in, but  **how am I supposed to look at you the same way after this?”**

“I was attacked and  **someone literally just died** at my hand  **and that’s what you’re thinking about?**  If it was a weak Queen you wanted, Loki, you chose wrong. Your mother was a fighter,” you reminded him, “and she was one of the great Queens.” The pool of blood has reached your shoes now, and you step backward and sweep your skirt away from it. “He tried to…” You stop your self and sigh impatiently. “You need to take a look at your defenses, Loki, because not only was a commoner with no seidr able to break in and form a distraction so effective that it kept you away, but not a single one of the royal guard came to my aid.” Rage colors your vision red and you kick the man’s limp foot.

The motion sends a shock of pain through your abdomen and you hunch over, panting to keep your panic in check. Loki rushes to your side and places his hand over your womb, his hand glowing green as he presses hard against a wound you didn’t realize you had sustained - the adrenaline likely blocked it out during the attack, you think. Clear, blood-tinged fluid trickles slowly but steadily between his fingers. He looks in your eyes without a trace of fear.

“I can’t heal it. Don’t move,” he instructs you, and turns his head over his shoulder toward the door. “Guards! Summon Eir the healer!”

Loki’s order is met with silence. He calls again and receives no answer. “Damn,” he growls. “Where are they?! I’ll have every last one of them hanged for their neglect! I’ll get her myself.”

Your heart nearly stops and you cling to Loki’s sleeve. “You can’t leave me!”

“I am the God of Illusions, (Y/N). You know I can be many places at once. Let’s get you on the bed.”

He holds you upright around your waist and leads you back to the bed, where you hesitate at the memory of the intruder who lays dead on the floor and what he had tried to do to you. A different kind of pain tears through you, a tightening sensation in your belly that steals the breath from your lungs. You cry out and Loki turns to see more of your blood pouring from the wound, soaking your dress. Panic flickers across his face just for a moment.

“I’m going to use my magic to take off your dress,” he says calmly, and you nod. You’re starting to sweat from the pain, feeling more faint by the minute. You don’t have much of a choice but to do what he says.

A wave of Loki’s hand relieves you of the gown just as another pain - a contraction of labor, you realize - hits you. Your bare stomach and legs are sticky with blood. He helps you lie down on the bed just as the royal Healer runs into the room, tying her hair up in a bun on the back of her head. She barely spares a glance at the corpse on the floor. Apparently she has seen a lot worse.

“I came as fast as I could, Your Majesties,” she pants, and rushes over to where you are stretched out naked on the bed. From her pocket she extracts a small container with a lid and opens it, scooping the salve inside onto her fingers. Loki grips her forearm before she can touch you, but she is patient. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I have to tend to this wound before I can check on the baby,” she explains to him. Eir touches your chin and you look at her, your vision slightly hazy. “This may hurt some, but I trust that since your labor pains have begun it may feel like nothing.”

You close your eyes and feel a burning, tingling sensation on your belly. “There,” Eir says, and taps the inside of your knee. “At least you won’t lose any more blood. Open your legs please, I need to check and see if you’re dilated.” Loki helps you get your legs up and you open your eyes again to place your hand on his cheek. You feel like you’re floating but you make yourself focus long enough to talk to him.

“Loki,” you whisper, and he leans in so he can hear you. “I… I know you don’t love me. We’re practically strangers.” Loki opens his mouth to speak but you cover his lips with your hands. “I know that you’ll, ah, you’ll do right by our child. If I don’t make it…” You start to feel sleepy and you force yourself to stay awake. “If I don’t make it, I want you to fall in love with the next Queen. You deserve to be happy. Do it for me.”

Eir pushes down on the top of your belly and you wince at the pain. “My Queen, you’re going to have to push, just once. The baby is coming and you’re early so it’s going to be small. On the count of three.” You nod at her, your head swimming. “One, two, and push!”

You gather what energy you have and push, Eir assisting you by pressing down on your belly again. Loki squeezes your hand in both of his, tears gathering in his eyes as he tries to maintain an otherwise stoic expression. You feel something large and limp slide out of you and you throw your head back on the pillow.

Loki brushes the hair away from your eyes and he kisses you gently with quivering lips. “I do love you, (Y/N),” he confesses. “You are the Queen of my heart and I will never love another for as long as I shall live. My only regret is that I didn’t tell you sooner.”  

You smile and close your eyes. The pain is gone.

“It’s a boy,” Eir says proudly, but you don’t hear her.

Loki looks down between your limp legs to see his son, small but strong, wiggling his little limbs and crying softly. “Prince Eirik,” he whispers. He stands up and takes the child in his arms, wrapping him up in a sheet. A single tear falls onto the baby’s bloodstained head. Standing back from the bed, he addresses Eir, his face like thunder. He points to you. “Now save her.”

“Your Majesty, I -”

“ _NOW_!”

Eir moves to the head of the bed, watching Loki out of the corner of her eye. Hesitantly she places two fingers at your neck. Your pulse is barely there, thready and irregular under her fingertips and your breathing is shallow and barely perceptible, but she doesn’t indicate that she feels anything. Her men did their jobs getting in here and distracting the King, now it is her turn. She turns to face Loki, her face sympathetic and her voice steady.

“She’s gone, there’s nothing I can do.”

Loki places the now-sleeping baby bundle into his armchair. “You forget, traitor,” he says, his tone venomous, “that I am your King, and I am the God of Lies.” A turn on his heels and a flick of his wrist and the Healer is dead on the floor, a dagger of obsidian glass buried in her heart. Loki returns to your side, anger fueling his seidr, and holds his hands over your forehead and chest, the intense green light nearly blinding him.

Your eyes open to see Loki leaning over you, sobbing openly, his hands fluttering delicately all over your body. You reach for him and he places your hand on his cheek. You hear your baby crying somewhere else in the room. Loki leans into your hand, reveling in how warm it feels now when only moments before it was cold as death.

“(Y/N), my love… I thought I had lost you.”


End file.
